


Adrian's Julianne

by Jubalii



Series: London Nights [6]
Category: Hellsing
Genre: Death, Gen, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5221871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jubalii/pseuds/Jubalii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a mission, a vampire mistakes Seras for his beloved Julianne. She learns something about the nature of a vampire's love, and how it extends beyond the grave. She also learns of Alucard's duty as a king in all things, no matter how grim they must be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrian's Julianne

            “Julianne!”

            The cry was what made Seras Victoria initially turn around, her pistol dropping as she heard the voice. She was on a routine hostage mission, nothing out of the ordinary; find the hostages and secure them, kill the rogue vampire, and get the hell out of the building before dawn.

            And so far, they’d done just that. The three hostages, all young women with blonde hair and equally terrified expressions, had been found in the warehouse basement. Alucard had informed Sir Integra of their safe extraction, and they’d been given the go-ahead to search the upper levels for the vampire. Search and destroy; it’d been the command ringing in their ears for decades now.

            She had been given a picture of the suspect before they went to the warehouse, but the man standing behind her looked nothing like it. This rogue vampire was a teenage boy, blue-haired with his eyebrows pierced up and a giant hole in his tongue. He skateboarded the streets at night, looking for prostitutes on the street corners (or, when the food became scarce, lone females on the way home from work).

            But this man was nothing like the hooligan several floors above their heads. He was only a little taller than Seras, perhaps only a few inches or so. His skin was pallid, his hair a dark brown that, in the light of the warehouses, seemed nearly black. It was a mass of frizzy curls that hung around his face, the majority pulled into a low ponytail by a length of string.

            He wore a suit, although it was an older model that looked more at home in the late 1930s. A golden pocket watch was chained to his waistcoat, a golden ring on his finger. His shoes were polished, his appearance one of a man accustomed to cleanliness and order. But there was a general air of unkemptness about him, as though he hadn’t taken care of himself lately despite the snappy dress.

            Looking closer, Seras decided that the uneasy quality started in his eyes. They were close to the color of her own, but his were lighter than hers by only a shade or two. His stoic features gave him the aura of a gentleman, but in his eyes shone a light that was almost mad. There was a crazed gleam in them, as if he didn’t know where he was.

            They sized each other up, Seras lowering the gun completely in her shock and surprise. There wasn’t supposed to be another vampire here at the warehouse. That wasn’t in any of the documents or the briefing Sir Integra had given them before being deployed. And the woman did her homework; this was the first time in nearly twenty years that she had been wrong on some fact.

            “Julianne!” the man exclaimed once more, his face lighting up in a strange sort of ecstasy. “I’ve looked everywhere for you, my dove!”

            “Ex-excuse me?” Seras blurted, thoroughly confused. Clearly, this man had her confused for someone else. He didn’t even seem to be all there; perhaps he was just a looney old codger who’d not had enough blood yet tonight? Or he might have been high; it took _a lot_ to get a vampire plastered, but it was a possible feat if you had the willpower to do it.

            “Julianne,” he repeated again, moving forward faster than she was ready for. He wasn’t high—he was too stable on his feet. He grabbed her arm, causing her to drop her gun in shock and drug her towards him. She braced for a violent impact, but instead the vampire embraced her gently, caressing her cheek with the soft air of a lover.

“What are you doing all the way out here, Julianne? Come on, let’s get you home and you can explain it to me.” He looked towards the open door, where the telltale sounds of Alucard’s gun rang in the stairwell as he slaughtered Ghouls upstairs. “It sounds like trouble; no wonder, with this shady part of town. This side of the river has never been really safe, not even when we were younger.”

“I’m sorry,” Seras said firmly, planting her hand on the man’s forearm and attempting to untangle herself. “But you’ve got me mistaken for someone else. My name’s not Julianne—it’s Seras.” The man’s smile faltered, and he let her go, but his gaze hardened slightly.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, voice unsure. “Julianne, have you hit your head or something?” He frowned and shook his head, frizz flying. “No matter—with all the commotion, you’ve probably just had a nervous breakdown.” He grabbed her arm again, gently tugging her in the direction of the warehouse entrance. “Come along, my darling. We’ll sleep today, and tomorrow night you’ll be fine again.”

“You don’t understand!” Seras protested, raising her voice. “I am _not_ Julianne!” The man stopped and turned, pulling her close.

“Don’t raise your voice to me,” he ordered stubbornly. “You _are_ Julianne, and I have your picture to prove it,” he added, pulling the pocket watch out and clicking open the case so she could see the face and hands. Opposite the face, a the faded portrait of a young woman had been placed. Seras leaned closer, looking at the aged picture.

It _did_ look strikingly like her. Even the bangs were nearly the same, and she could tell even without color that the eyes were almost the same color as her own. Looking very closely, she could tell a few subtle differences between her and this Julianne; wider nostrils, bushier eyebrows, a more tapered look to the chin—other than that, it could have been her twin. She could see how the man would have gotten them confused. Still, she straightened back up and shook her head.

“That’s not me,” she said plainly. “Look closely—that woman and I are different.” The man smiled and painstakingly put the watch back into his pocket, his hand keeping a firm grip on her wrist.

“It’s alright, my Julianne,” he said softly, consoling her. “You’ve had a long evening, but it’s alright now.” It was clear he didn’t believe that she wasn’t who she said she was. Seras pulled back, her arm protesting as she all but shouted at him.

“ _I’m not your Julianne_!” she shrieked, startling the poor man and feeling sorry for doing it a second later. “Sorry,” she said, as he gaped at her with a hurt expression. “I’m really sorry, but I’m Seras. If she’s missing, maybe we can help you find her.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he said, turning around fully and embracing her again. “You _are_ my Julianne! I thought you were lost to me, but then I saw you tonight when you ran into the warehouse. You must have just been taken away, but I managed to find you all the same.” He smiled, the expression almost scary when coupled with his wide, glimmering eyes. “Don’t you see, Julianne? We can be together again!” he proclaimed, shaking her slightly with a joyful tremor.

“She doesn’t belong to you.” The shadows in the warehouse deepened, and from them Alucard stepped. He pulled Seras back, her surprised yelp muffled by his long coat. “This is not Julianne.” His expression was somber, and Seras looked up at him curiously. He seemed to know what was going on here.

“No, that’s Julianne!” the man argued, pointing at her. His face darkened and he looked positively horrific. “Who are you?! Are you planning on taking her away?” he demanded, voice rising in pitch. “You can’t have her! She’s mine; I’ll fight you to the death for her!” he all but howled, his own shadows rising and churning in a rapid staccato around his body.

“Look closely, you bloody fool,” Alucard barked, this time throwing Seras forward. “This is not your Julianne! Look into her eyes, look at her countenance! Is this truly your mate?!” Seras stumbled, nearly falling onto the man’s polished shoes. She couldn’t understand either man’s anger, though she could tell they were stemming from two completely different places. The man before her had an almost instinctive, base rage. Alucard was just infuriated that the vampire dared challenge him in such a manner.

The man caught her before she fell, and she looked up at him. Her adrenaline was racing almost fearfully in response to the man’s anger. As he looked into her eyes, something dawned in his and his gaze softened. He let her go, and his frown turned into something so pitiful that it twisted her heartstrings in two. She suddenly had the urge to comfort this man; he seemed… alone, now. More so than he had before, when it was just the two of them standing apart.

“You… you _aren’t_ Julianne,” he said quietly, with disappointment. “I—I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just thought—I had the wildest notion that for a moment, you were her. I could have sworn you were her,” he apologized, rubbing one hand through his hair as he looked away. “I wanted you to be her.”

“Julianne is dead,” Alucard said coldly, but there was a measure of consideration in his voice, as if he too could feel the sheer isolation of the man standing before them. Seras hesitated, wondering what was different. Usually, Alucard killed anyone that ventured to challenge him. But he was brushing this encounter aside, almost as if he had no other alternative.

“She’s… she’s gone,” the man admitted softly, his voice breaking. “She’s gone now… what am I do to?” he asked Seras, as if she could have told him. Seras felt a lump grow in her throat at the heartbreaking sight before her. She shook her head, mouth opening and then closing as words refused to come.

Alucard moved to go back to the stairwell and the man dashed forward, clinging to the sleeve of his coat.

“Wait!” he shouted, giving a shaky bow as Alucard turned back around. “My king,” he murmured, clearly seeing and comprehending who stood before him now, and showing proper respect. “I apologize for this episode.”

“You are forgiven,” Alucard said, though his tone made it clear that he could care less. The man shook, and Seras realized he was crying.

“My Julianne; she was killed a few weeks back,” he gasped, trying to form words around the sobs racking his small frame. “Since then, I’ve not slept, or wanted to eat, or found comfort in anything. All I want is Julianne.” His voice cracked and he whimpered, doubled over with one hand over his face.

“Then I will send you to her,” Alucard announced. Seras realized what he meant the same time he pulled the Cassul from his coat. Her shout of terror died in her throat at its implications.

“Would you?” the man asked, looking up with red-streaked cheeks. Alucard stuck the gun against the man’s chest, right over his heart. He looked down at the gun, and then looked up at Alucard. To Seras’ astonishment and horror, his expression was one of immense relief and gratitude. “Thank you!” he sighed happily, closing his eyes.

Alucard’s mouth was set in a grim line as he pulled the trigger. The man let out a breath, falling back and becoming ash before he hit the floor. Seras shivered, sinking down onto her knees. The man’s ashes were close enough she could touch. She felt a sob rise in her throat and forced it back down, her mind torn. One side of her was shocked at what she saw, and what he’d done. But a deeper, more instinctive part of her felt a sense of mercy and duty, as though Alucard had been putting down a sick animal instead of a despairing vampire.

Boots came into the edge of her vision and she felt fingers grabbing the collar of her police uniform, yanking her upright. A hand grabbed her arm to keep her from stumbling and he bent down to look her over.

“Did he harm you in any way?” Alucard asked, but it seemed as if he already knew the answer.

“No,” she replied, brushing back her hair with shaky fingers. “I don’t think he ever meant to.”

“He didn’t,” Alucard replied matter-of-factly. Looking her over once more, he decided she was fine and let her go abruptly. “While you were loafing around down here, I’ve completed our mission,” he informed her. “The vampire is dead.”

“Loafing?!” she repeated incredulously. “I wasn’t _loafing_! I was in distress!” He gave her a long look over the rims of his glasses.

“Distress?” he scoffed. “Police Girl, did that man really frighten you?” She shrugged, feeling uncertain. When he was full of rage, she’d felt a sliver of fear, but throughout the whole episode she had never felt as if she was in over her head. The man had been some crazy old cook, but now she felt a mixture of compassion and sadness for him—she didn’t think he had been crazy long, and he clearly had felt remorse for his actions afterwards. As short as the episode had been, she had still gotten the clear image that he’d truly thought she was the woman he’d been searching for.

“No… I mean, I don’t think so,” she said slowly, thinking hard. “I just feel bad for him now. He was unhappy—he was mental,” she added, not without sympathy. “Poor man.”

“Don’t pity him,” Alucard said sharply, his voice a low growl. “He could have overcome it, if his mind had been strong enough.” Seras frowned.

“Overcome _what_?” she snapped, crossing her arms. “I don’t even understand half of what that was. Are you going to tell me, or is this another one of those vampire things I have to figure out myself?” Her voice held a measure of anger, and he barely bit back a harsh retort.

Even after all this time, part of her had never forgiven him for leaving for thirty years. She’d had to unravel most of her vampiric powers herself, and had lived in anxiety for many years, nervously wondering if the various things she could do was “normal” for vampires or not. He’d argued that no one had been around to teach him, either; but he had his resentments and had to permit hers as well, however begrudgingly he did so.

“Such a headstrong, insolent little girl you are,” he finally snarled, turning away. She hissed in rage, but didn’t prod him again. Instead, she stewed in her decades-old bitterness and steadfastly ignored him. _Women and their vices_ , he thought to himself, wishing (not for the first time) that he’d never clapped eyes on the small blonde. She seemed to bring him nothing but trouble, and brought out all sorts of emotions he’d rather not experience.

 _Trouble, servant?_ Sir Integra’s crystal clear voice rang in his head like a gong. He didn’t answer, but he knew she’d already guessed enough, if she hadn’t prodded his thoughts already looking for the reason behind his impatience. _You made the choice to turn her into a vampire,_ she laughed in his mind. _Now you have to deal with her; no pushing her off onto someone else. She’s your problem._

 _I know_ , he growled back crossly. _You said the same thing all those years ago, when I brought her to the manor for the first time._

 _And I mean it, even now,_ she replied brusquely. _Even if I’ve grown fond of her over the years, she’s first and foremost **your** responsibility. You’ve got no one to blame but yourself if she’s getting on your nerves. _

_You speak as though she’s a little pet animal, and not a grown woman with a will of her own and a stubborn streak—_

_As big as yours?_ Integra finished shrewdly, a chuckle lacing her words. _Trust me, I know; I’ve worked with her for all those decades while you were off gallivanting with 600 years’ worth of lost souls. Don’t cry because she turned out to be more than the obedient little servant you were hoping for. Hurry it up and return home; the sun’s going to be rising soon._ She retreated, her piece said. Alucard grumbled inwardly, his face the same neutral mask as he watched the cleanup crew enter. Seras directed them upstairs, staring down at the pile of ash that was a vampire.

“What was his name?” She finally addressed him again, but her manner was cool and curt, the clipped voice that meant she was still mad and wasn’t planning on letting it go anytime soon. “Do you even know? You seemed to know him.”

“I know my subjects,” he replied in the same tone. “Especially those that choose to live on this godforsaken rock.” He wasn’t even taking any pains to hide his blatant ire, a sure sign that he was _not_ in a good mood. “He was known as Adrian.”

“Adrian,” Seras repeated. She seemed to come to a decision and her shadows flared to life, scooping up the ash that lay scattered on the oil-stained concrete flooring. She cleared it all up into a pile in her shadows, carrying it to the doorway of the warehouse. Alucard followed, his curiosity winning out over his wrath.

“You deserve better than being sprayed into a gutter like that bloke upstairs,” she said to the ash as she stepped into the light of dawn. The sun hadn’t risen above the horizon yet, but the sky was already awash in the pinks and blues of a new day. The wind blew between the warehouse and its identical neighbors, and Seras released the ash into the breeze, squinting as she followed its path to the brightened east.

“I hope you found her, Adrian,” she whispered. “I really, really do.” She half-turned and spoke to Alucard over her shoulder. “I’m going home.”

* * *

“I fired the shot that killed the vampire. The Police Girl was downstairs, finishing up.” Alucard finished the post-assignment report with the same smug air he always did, not adding anything about the vampire. Sir Integra would want to know, and this was something that her human mind wouldn’t be able to fully understand. She might surmise that he’d shot the vampire because he had touched Seras, which wasn’t the case at all. He’d only been giving the man what he wanted—a surefire, one-way trip to the afterlife.

“That’s all fine,” Sir Integra murmured, jotting down notes from his verbal report on a scratch piece of paper. She looked up at the pair of them standing before her desk, dripping on the carpet and looking like reject demons drenched in ash and congealed blood with matching frowns. “Anything to add, _Police Girl_?” She hardly used the nickname anymore, other than to tease Seras about the fact that no matter how many years passed, Alucard refused to address her to others as anything but the moniker.

“No, Sir.” Seras had been unnaturally quiet since returning home, not making a peep during the entire report. She seemed subdued, her arms around her pale frame and hair hanging more in her face than usual. Sir Integra noticed the atypical behavior at once.

“Agent Victoria? Is something the matter?” she asked, glaring at Alucard. He knew she thought _he_ was the reason behind her unusual silence. He stared back indifferently, revealing nothing through his mind or his mannerism. Seras looked up, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“No, Sir,” she repeated in a louder tone. “I’m just…more tired than usual.” Alucard looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Either she lied too easily, or she really was feeling wearier than normal. Sir Integra scrutinized her a moment longer before speaking.

“I’ll order an extra bag brought down for your breakfast tonight,” she said, letting the matter slide. “I want you to drink it all. We may have to adjust your intake,” she added thoughtfully, speaking more to herself now.

“If you think it’s best,” Seras replied listlessly, and Sir Integra dismissed them both with a nod. She turned to walk out of the room, and instead of phasing to his chambers like he always did, Alucard decided to follow her.

She didn’t react to his presence, her eyes firmly locked on the hallway ahead. The soldiers that were still roaming around the manor as they awaited the end of the nightshift lifted their heads in greeting, but the sight of the two of them together had them on edge. Alucard could sense the innate fear rolling off them at the sight of him walking behind their favorite captain, and as always he couldn’t help but feel a sense of dark amusement.

She still didn’t speak to him as they neared the steps leading to the basement, and he remained just as silent until they reached the door that led to her room. He cleared his throat and she stopped on the threshold, her back to him.

“Do you intend to mope all day, Police Girl?” he asked, losing what little patience he had in reserve. She stayed quiet a long moment, but he felt as if something was coming. He suddenly missed the days he could just dive into her mind and see what she was thinking, without her able to do a damn thing about it.

Now that she was no longer his servant, he had to put out an actual effort to read her mind—something he didn’t care to do, unless he had reason to believe she was truly hiding something from him. He honestly didn’t care what she was thinking, most of the time. Women’s minds were so _volatile_ , anyway; it was hard to read what their emotions really were, they felt so many at once.

“I just can’t stop thinking…” she stated, her voice breaking the silence. “About Julianne.” He sighed, barely pushing her ahead of him into the room and shutting the door behind them. She turned around, and he saw tears in her eyes. “You said not to have pity on him, but I just—something inside me won’t let me just ignore it,” she explained, her voice cracking slightly. “I don’t understand it and you won’t tell me, but I can’t pretend like I didn’t feel bad for him.”

“He could have overcome his pain, but he let it take him over and ruined his mind. Others with stronger constitutions have survived loss.” Seras’ frown deepened.

“You pitied him too; you put him out of his misery.”

“I gave him what he wanted,” Alucard retorted scathingly. “Less whining that way.” Seras’ eyes widened, her mouth twisting in anger.

“I can’t believe you just said that!” she practically shouted. “The man lost his wife!”

“She wasn’t his wife,” he disagreed, shaking his head.

“His lover, then,” she countered testily. Alucard shook his head again.

“She was more than a mere lover.”

“His _wife_!” she yelled, throwing up her hands.

“His _mate_!” he growled back, his voice raising an octave.

“What’s the difference!?” she half-shrieked. He prodded her forehead with a finger.

“It’s in here, that’s where the difference is.” She flinched as he poked her.

“It sounds too animalistic,” she complained. “Mating is something dogs and cats do.”

“Animals couple,” he argued. “Wolves mate. Eagles mate. Vampires mate. It’s just how it is.” He caught her dubious expression and grunted in frustration. “Even a few _human_ pairs manage to mate, on a smaller scale.”

“Oh, what; you mean soulmates?” she sneered, falling back into her chair. “I can’t believe that, coming from _you_.” He arched a brow. “You’re the last person in the world that I can imagine believing in the concept of a soulmate.”

“It happens, all the same.” She said nothing. “You _don’t_ believe it?”

“No, I don’t,” she admitted. “It’s nice to imagine it happening, but I can’t understand how there could be two people that are meant to be together, that just somehow manage to find each other randomly out of all the people in the world.”

“Such a cynical little thing, for one so young,” he teased her softly, fingers brushing the hair back from her cheek. She sighed despondently but let him touch her, and some of her earlier anger seemed to be slowly vanishing.

“Let me guess; it took you much longer than me to become cynical?” she asked sarcastically.

“I come from a time where love was something sang about in the town square, but hardly found. People married for money and looked to the Divine and their children for acceptance and affection. If you were lucky, you could develop a passion for your intended, but many people weren’t lucky in the slightest.” He laughed haughtily, the sound hollow. “We were _all_ cynical. But the modern people seem to think that love is around every corner, the fools.”

“You just said you believe in soulmates. Who’s foolish now?” Seras snapped. He looked back at her, having moved about the room during his little speech.

“For humans, I spoke truly. A _few_ manage to find their mates, but many live with what they can get. They never stop hoping, though. Something does have to be said for perseverance,” he mused. “Such a fascinating, tenacious bunch.” He snapped himself out of his thoughts and continued. “But, vampires are so much more than humans, Seras.”

“So you’ve said,” she drawled, listening with a skeptical expression plastered on her face.

“We are drawn to others that are of the right… stock, if you will. We form groups with others who are possible mate material, creating companionable bonds or even….” He trailed off, looking at her with a strange light in his eyes. “In any case, it’s highly likely a vampire will find their intended. And it’s something far deeper than I can explain.”

“Have you?” she asked suddenly, sitting forward. “Been—well, you know.” She tilted her head, regarding him. Maybe he was speaking out of experience, when he’d said that others had overcome the loss of their mate. Maybe he didn’t want her pitying him, too. It was highly plausible.

“That is a _very_ personal question,” he replied frigidly, face drawn. She felt the scolding behind his words and wilted slightly. “But no, I have not.” She blinked, surprised that he’d answered even after reprimanding her.

“Oh.” She looked away, the last of her anger draining and giving way to slight embarrassment and curiosity. “Well, you’ve got a lot of hope for a man who’s lived 600 years without meeting “the one”.”

“I do not hope,” he responded, a dark edge to the words. “You asked for an explanation, and I gave you one.” He turned to the wall, preparing to phase. “Six centuries is but a drop in a bucket to our kind, Police Girl. And one’s never sure what the future holds. I’ve been surprised more than once in my existence.”

“Yeah, I got ya.” She smiled almost coyly, watching him with a perceptive look in her eyes. “Goodnight, Alucard.”

“Good day, Seras.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story was one that hurt my heart to write.   
> Alas, poor Adrian. You may be recycled for a new story someday.


End file.
